Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The possibility of a fresh new start, in a new city,of losing weight in the next two weeks,of catching the next train to Chennai and being with him,of the milk curdling even as its boiling promisingly,of sudden, breathtaking rain on a hot day,of him calling back right after hanging up the phone call,of one more quick hug after bidding goodbye for two hours.

The possibility of sitting down tomorrow and getting that story in your head penned down,of staying back for another day,of being forgiven one more time,of getting over another heart break,of one more dumb acquaintance at the party than you had expected,of learning 12 different languages someday.

The possibility of waking up tomorrow, and doing something wild,of saving up enough to travel around the world,of mastering the art of repartee,of dying young,of fitting into that pretty dress one of these days,of making her the proudest mother on earth.

The possibility of going into that dream world on the other side of the mirror,of rebuilding the sand castle over and over again,of someone walking into the room, finding the damn remote, and changing the boring channel,of being a millionaire someday,of meeting that one man who would make love to my mind as well,of marrying my best friend if I end up being 40 and single,of speaking my mind, without holding back words, ideas or emotions,of living two different, parallel lives in a lifetime.

There is hope to live, plentyAnd an urge to enjoy bits of beauty;In the possibility of yet another possibility-Filled with uncertainty

Who reads this stuff, anyway?

test

It’s so weird when people ask you who you are and you end up offering details about what you do.
I am still figuring out who I am but I'll tell you some of what I do. I work. I write. I read. I love poetry. I am single, but sometimes I am plural. I am different people rolled into one. I am cynical. I am passionate. I love early mornings. I love late nights. I hate what comes in between. I love music. I love theatre. I can’t stand melodrama. I cannot live or survive or even exist without coffee.
That's pretty much the short version of me.